I looked down at the knife Shal had given me.
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[Doombreaker Knife]
Rarity: Epic (Unique) | Level: 33
Description: A deceptively simple-looking blade made from Pangolin-Steel and engraved in photoconductive gold by a master craftsman.
Subroutine: [Doombreaker’s Sword] - The weapon emits a holohaptic projection around the blade, increasing its reach significantly whilst not affecting weight.
Durability: 144/144
Synchronization: 99%
“Stab the Basilisk in the eye. Let its gaze doom no other.”
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“What’s going to happen when it hits one hundred?” I asked Hob.
“I’m not sure, Sir.” He said, tapping his chin.
I looked down as the counter went up to 100.
A window opened up.
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[SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE]
Begin Integration?
[Yes] [No]
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"Intergration, huh? I bet this is something like what the gem did with my arm, isn't it?" I glanced at Hob, “Will pressing yes knock me out?”
“I don’t think so.” He shrugged. “I didn’t get much more information about whatever this process is aside from what you can see for yourself, but I’m getting the feeling that any adverse effect will be momentary.”
“Momentary adverse effect, huh?” I looked at the window and frowned. Then, I shrugged and mentally clicked [Yes].
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[INTEGRATION INITIALIZED]
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A sharp pain went through my metallic arm like one of the bones of my forearm had been replaced with molten steel. Then, in a heartbeat, the pain disappeared. I took a shuddering breath, the phantom of the pain causing my fingers to tremble, and looked at the knife.
It was dissolving.
““Aw, man…” I grimaced. “I just realized this is the second cool weapon I destroyed in less than a week.”
“Technically, [Overdrive] was destroyed by a priest.” Hob helpfully added in a chipper voice. “So this is the second cool weapon you participated in the destruction of, but this is the first one you have actively destroyed yourself. This week, that is.”
“Thanks, bud,” I responded flatly. I sighed and watched as the last vestiges of the knife broke apart in my hands, the dust so fine that it dissolved into the air, leaving no trace behind.
I waited patiently for a window to open up, giving me more information on what the blazes I'd just done by integrating with the knife, but it never arrived. "Of course, why would I get more information than 'Hey, I guess you integrated a knife into your arm.' Fuckin' perfect." I said bitterly, dusting my hands off. “Thank Terra that Zuri didn’t see me with the knife. If she knew I destroyed a unique, epic-ranked weapon made personally by her father, she would kill me.”
“Speaking of Zuri, sir,” Hob said, and I winced, knowing what he was about to say. “You said she got attached and wanted a relationship after a single night. You did not mention that you’ve known each other for... Over a decade and a half now?”
I sighed and rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Really? Right now? Fine. Yeah. I know. I just…” I blew out my cheeks and leaned back on my chair. “Zuri and I have history. We made a mistake, one she did not regret.”
“But you do?” Hob looked at me, head slightly tilted to the side.
“Yes and no,” I said, shaking my head. “Zuri is… You know. You’ve seen her. She’s Zuri. One of the most beautiful, rich, and powerful women in the ring. But she’s also one of my closest friends.”
“All those sound like positives to me, sir.”
“Yeah, and they are. But I also recognize that I was fucked up. I was seeking a way to ease my pain, and she was there. Didn’t know she had a crush on me for years. I thought it was a spur-of-the-moment thing. That alcohol had made us lose our minds for a night.”
I stood up and stretched my back with a grunt. “Turns out, no. Zuri wanted more. I…” I closed my eyes, trying to dismiss the memory of Zuri’s face, full of hope and fear, as she asked me to stay. The disappointment and pain when I told her that I couldn’t give her what she wanted. “Under any other circumstance, I’d enthusiastically agree, but… I couldn’t handle it. Not so soon after Silvina and… Everything else. So, I disappeared.”
Hob nodded with understanding, but the gaze he leveled at me was accusatory. “I understand the situation a little better now, but you didn’t have to present it in such a dismissive manner when we first spoke of it, sir.”
I threw my hands up in the air. “We were about to talk to Zuri’s father in their home. I was nervous, and this isn’t an easy subject for me, okay? I thought making light of the situation would make me feel better about my part in it.” I grimaced again as if I tasted something sour. “Turns out it made me feel worse.”
Hob nodded, “At least you appear to be on good terms now.”
A timer beeped in the corner of my vision, and I walked to the window, careful to stay out of sight. I took out a fiber camera and connected it to my Novas. I carefully adjusted the end of the single strand of fiber that acted as the camera’s lens to get a clearer view of the Neon Gridlock’s doorway through the window to my right.
“For now.” I grunted. “When she finds out what her father and I agreed upon, and she’s smart enough that I’m sure she’ll find out somehow, there will be hell to pay. But, one problem at a time.”
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I observed Farrah, with her hair now streaked with purple strands and swept to one side, revealing a golden hoop earring. She had traded her gray shirts and sweatpants for a sleek black and brown bodysuit and a dark gray jacket with vibrant purple lining. Amusingly, I noticed she had coordinated her colors well, highlighting her clothes and hair with the same purple as her eyes. Real subtle there, Farrah.
Then again, I suppose that as long as we pulled this job off, it was just going to add to her notoriety, so she must have been taking the opportunity to show off a little, too.
She approached and got in line for the club, several heads turning at her passing. From the outside, the club looked like a massive industrial warehouse, the only thing hinting at its true purpose being the massive bouncer at the door and the line of scantily, ridiculously, or ostentatiously dressed people. Some were all 3 at the same time.
Right before it was Farrah’s turn to be scanned, I texted Zuri using the party system. Voice chat didn’t work at long distances, and if we got too far away from each other, the party would be automatically disbanded, but she was waiting right at the edge of the party range.
Farrah reached the doorman and said something. I couldn’t hear from this distance, and I didn’t even pretend to try to guess. The doorman replied, and she giggled. I looked up towards the nearby Otherside axle, feeling my palms begin to sweat. Zuri should have appeared by now. I looked back through the camera, seeing Farrah now signing the proffered arm of a person behind her while the bouncer looked increasingly impatient.
Right as I was going to send a second message to Zuri, her personal flier appeared from behind the nearest Otherside axle, flying low and fast toward the club. Everyone’s eyes turned to it as it approached, and even from being two streets away, I heard a collective gasp as the vehicle, shaped like a teardrop, caught on fire.
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[Message]
[Zuri]: Sorry I’m late. Had to avoid a giant recycling swarm.
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It hovered over the club and slowly descended to where the middle of the line was. Everyone was pushed back from the blast of the engines, and I spotted Farrah stumbling back into the doorman’s arms, her right hand clamping over his watch.
They all stayed like that, transfixed at the sight as the transport landed, the flames winking out and a door opening to reveal Zuri, dressed in a stylish dark charcoal leather cropped top with a plunging neckline, leather shorts of the same color, and fishnets around her legs and arms.
Everyone gaped at Zuri as the transport lifted off and left. She gave everyone a soft smile and a nod, her ponytail bobbing behind her. Then, a quiet sort of pandemonium happened as I watched everyone in line whisper to each other frantically.
Zuri slowly walked over to the doorman, whom Farrah was still holding onto. The man shook Farrah off and offered Zuri a deep bow. Farrah looked deeply insulted, playing her part to perfection.
Zuri was promptly allowed inside, and the doorman turned to Farrah, barely giving her any attention as he scanned her and let her in. Two out of four. Perfect.
I looked at the time in the corner of my vision and counted the minutes until Sothog arrived, dressed in a sharp, dark green suit and a navy blue shirt. He stood in line, blending perfectly with the crowd, his suit chosen to try and hide the distinctive Chargecaster look as much as possible.
When he reached the doorman, he looked nervous, which made the man pause, but after a quick scan, he rolled his eyes and motioned Sothog to enter.
Three out of four. It was showtime.
I descended the stairs of the empty building I had broken into for my vantage point, holding tightly to the camera. I must have underestimated my nervousness because the moment I reached the bottom of the stairs, I heard a crack. Looking down, I opened my right hand to find the thumb-sized device crushed beyond all salvaging. Huh, I guess I underestimated my strength, too.
Hob added it back to my inventory, and I snorted in amusement when the notification called it [Electronic Scrap]. That distraction was enough to bring me back in balance. I dusted my hands off and added my armor to my inventory, leaving me with the button-up shirt and the trousers Zuri had picked.
“Ready?” I asked Hob.
“Ready,” he said with a firm nod.
I turned the corner and started heading towards the club, a small red icon in my corner turning green next to all my party members, indicating we were in voice chat range.
“Approaching the club now,” I sent them all.
“Gah. I don’t care how much we practiced with this, it's still freaking me the fuck out. Remote communication like this should be impossible.” Farrah sent back. “Text messages at close range are fine. They don’t disrupt the nanites nearly enough to make them go berzerk, but this? This is abnormal. How can this be possible?”
“I’m sorry, but that information is classified,” Zuri said, sounding smug.
“We signed the damned NDA, didn’t we? Come on, give me something. How does any of this work? Please?” Farrah said in a pleading tone.
“Please tell her something,” Sothog pleaded as well, “She’s been obsessed with this ever since you showed the party system to us.”
“Hmm,” Zuri replied, “Sorry, can’t do. Unfortunately, the information is reserved for clan members. You could always join us, then you’d be free to know as much as you’d like.”
“Can we focus?” I cut in, my nerves causing my tone to be a touch sharper than usual. “We have a job to do, people. Game faces on.”
“Roger that,” they all replied at once, and voice chat went quiet.
I reached the doorman, who scowled at me. “The fuck you frowning at?” he asked me in a gruff voice.
“Ah,” I said, schooling my face back into neutrality, ”Nothing, sorry, I was thinking about something else.”
He snorted and waved his scanner at me. He glanced at the display and waved at me dismissively. “Clear. Get in.”
I walked through the doors into a long corridor, surrounded by faint blue lights and absolute silence.
I put my hands on the doors at the far end and pushed. A wall of lights and music hit me hard enough that I took a step back. I walked into the club proper and looked around. To the left was a set of elevator doors, and to my right, a large area with couches. On a couch at the far back sat Jim, looking at me with a scowl. I kept my gaze steady. Straight ahead of me was a stage where the DJ played music next to male and female dancers dressed in little more than lingerie.
Between me and the DJ was the dancefloor, where a hundred bodies pressed against each other and jumped around to the beat. Nobody paid me any attention as I walked over to the left of the seating area, where two barmen and two barwomen were serving drinks.
“Sound off,” I said in voice chat. “What do you have that’s non-alcoholic?” I asked a barwoman as she passed by.
“Farrah here. In place and ready for the signal,” said Farrah.
“Zuri. On your mark,” reported Zuri.
“Hey, it’s Sothog. I am… Uh, ready to receive orders. Um… Sir.” Sothog said, stumbling over his words.
“Non-alcoholic, huh?” The barwoman asked with a smirk. “You got a different poison of your choice, huh? I’ve got some Altermind Inhalers if you’re buying. Limited stock from the prototyping batches.”
I shook my head with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I got my own supply. Special blend, you know?”
She shook her head with a smile. “Aye, I know. Most of you rich folk have your own special blends. Well, for non-alcoholic, I can make you a cocktail that tastes like bubblegum.”
“Oh, now we’re talking. I love bubblegum.” I said with a bright smile. As the barwoman was mixing my drink, I turned to face the club and looked up, the sight making me whistle.
Above the dancefloor, instead of a ceiling, was a giant tank full of water and bioluminescent fish. On the surface of the water floated drones connected to laser lights. The wandering multicolor display, water, and bioluminescent creatures combined created a mesmerizing sight, doubly so when they hit microscopic mirrors in the floor tiles, causing the light to scatter in random directions.
“Here you go,” said the bartender, sliding over a glass with a delicious-smelling pink drink. “That will be four big silver coins and three small silvers.”
Something in my brain screeched with indignation at the outrageous price. I took a deep breath, recentering myself, and pulled out five big silver coins and slid them across the bar.
“Keep the change,” I told her, and she swept the coins up with a bright smile and a wink. I shook my head and sipped my drink. The bloody thing was delicious.
My gaze swept across the club. I couldn’t see Farrah, Zuri, or Sothog, but I trusted them to stick to the plan. A few minutes later, a man in a black suit and tie approached me and cleared his throat. I stared at him flatly. They took their sweet time.
“Mr. Toriklas will see you now.”
Finally. Showtime.